Dragons of the Valley by Donita K. Paul Page B

were sneaking into Chiril, Verrin Schope arranged to have the statues spirited away for the safety of the country. He knew how the dismantling of the display would affect him. I would hardly claim such a selfless act to be irresponsible.”
    A knock sounded on the door.
    “Come,” ordered the king.
    A footman opened the door, bowed, and addressed the assembly. “Lady Peg has sent for Sir Beccaroon.”
    The king looked from the footman to the grand parrot. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and he nodded. “You may go.”
    Beccaroon swallowed the words that sprang to mind.
Glad to get rid of me
.
    No need to add to the animosity. He wouldn’t do any good here. The council was aware of the threat to their country. Let them stew on the ramifications. Endless discussion would most likely follow. Eagerness to find Verrin Schope and attack the problem on their own provided enough motivation for him to bow politely and excuse himself.
    Although he rarely flew inside a building, the palace foyer offered ample room. He took wing as he came out of the council hall and landed at the top of the stairwell. He strutted down the common hallway and turned down the corridor to the private chambers.
    Lady Peg stood in her doorway, wringing her hands and watching for Sir Beccaroon. She started talking before he reached the midpoint of the corridor.
    “He’s doing it again, Bec. Scared me. And scaring one’s wife is not something he enjoyed doing previously. Although I’m not sure he enjoyed doing it this time, which doesn’t excuse him for doing it. Because one minute he was not there, and then he was. And I didn’t expect him so soon because everyone knows when one goes to a council meeting, everyone talks and talks and then everyone argues and argues, then they move into the pontificating stage, which lasts for hours.
    “But Verrin Schope says he disappeared from the council room, which is sure to irk my father, and he reappeared in our bedroom. My husband, not my father. Having my father pop into my chambers would have thoroughly unnerved me. But for Verrin Schope to do so only caused me momentary alarm.
    “He—my husband, not my father—is just sitting on the trunk that has that piece of wood from my closet, with a look on his face that shouts, ‘Don’t talk to me just yet, Peg!’ ”
    She paused to pull in a breath of air. “And so I sent for you. Because if my husband can’t tell me what’s going on right now, you can.” She pressed a handkerchief to her lips. “Bec, has Tipper returned?”
    “No, milady, she has not.”
    “I’m not used to her being gone. I should like to leave the palace now and go home.”
    He put a wing around her back and gently guided her into her room.
    Verrin Schope nodded in greeting, then rose to close the door. “Bec, it’s clear that we must do something about the state Chiril has fallen into.”
    “Which state?” asked Lady Peg. “Was it damaged?”
    Verrin Schope grinned at his wife. “No, dear. Why don’t you pack? We’re going on an expedition.”
    Her face brightened, and for a moment, Beccaroon saw the astonishing likeness to her daughter, Tipper. He sometimes forgot how much the two looked alike. Lady Peg’s expression was often one of bemusement, whereas Tipper always looked alert and intelligent. The different attitudes toward life made a significant difference in their appearance.
    Lady Peg came to her husband’s side, gave him a quick kiss, then scurried into the adjoining room of their suite. She closed the door behind her.
    Verrin Schope sat on the trunk once more and addressed Beccaroon. “I don’t suppose the council came up with any brilliant ideas after I left.”
    The grand parrot’s muscles relaxed with a sigh. He took a perch on the arm of a chair and settled his feathers. “In a few minutes? Awk. It will take a great deal longer than a few minutes.”
    “Are you game, old friend, to venture forth with me and Peg to see what we can